Acting a Bit Strange
by Punzie the Platypus
Summary: The 11th Doctor, Amy and Rory head to twenty-second century Hollywood, where they head to a movie set and find themselves getting involved with the TV shows being filmed. The lead actors and actresses from each show are acting strange and something, or someone, is disrupting the entire studio. So much for a nice trip to Hollywood.
1. Hello, Hollywood!

_**Soli Deo gloria **_

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Doctor Who. All right, I just came up with this idea; let's roll with it. He he he he. Thanks for reading!  
**

Amy was in the large wardrobe room of the TARDIS. All around here, on two different levels, were racks and closets and wardrobes and drawers full of clothes from thousands of different countries and planets and galaxies. Well, she admitted to herself as she shrugged and put on a shiny tank, might as play dress up. They were off to a fairy-tale-ish place today. Well, almost. The people were always dressed up there anyway. She'd fit in.

"Coming, Amy?" She looked down to see Rory in the doorway. She smirked when she saw that he had taken her fashion hint and was wearing his Roman Centurion outfit for the occasion.

"Nice outfit," she said curtly.

"What—what about it?" Rory said, looking over his shoulder at the red cape and gold armor on him.

Amy shook her head and put on a pair of black, fashionable sunglasses. "Oh, nothing at all." She cocked her head and said in a high voice, "You look FABULOUS, Mr. Pond."

"I won't stand out too much then, aye?" Rory said as Amy picked up a purse and came hurrying down the stairs to the door.

"Rory," Amy said, cocking her head, "we're going to Hollywood. You'll look like you just walked off of a movie set."

"What are you supposed to be?" Rory said, taking in her outfit. Along with her shiny silvery tank, she wore a bright red jacket, tight jean capris over a pair of leggings with high heels. Around her pale arm was a purse and her lips covered with dark red lipstick.

"The average person of Hollywood, obviously, Rory. Or off the set of some chick flick. Any one will work." Amy offered her arm and said, "Shall we head out, then?"

"Yeah, the Doctor's waiting. Getting a bit impatient, actually," Rory said as he took her arm, and the two of them made their way through the halls, which had gold walls with gold plates over them in decoration. The carpets had swirly views of the galaxy under their feet, and there was golden doors dotting the walls every two feet or so, with nary a sign on them. It was terribly annoying, getting lost in the TARDIS. Of course, the entire TARDIS didn't look like this. The halls were all different looking throughout. One had a red carpet with those poles and ropes used to restrain crowds at premieres between each door.

"Well, what's he doing?" Amy asked.

"I think he's tinkering with the TARDIS again," Rory said as they came around a corner.

"'Again?' She's got to stop acting up. I might start getting worried," Amy said sarcastically as they came to the door at the top of the stairs to the main control room. They entered and peeking over the edge, Rory called, "Doctor?"

His body, they saw, was under the time vortex. He looked up and gave them an attempt at a wave as he yelled, "Oh, there you two are." He came out from under it, sliding a skateboard out from under him, as the Ponds came down the stairs. "Took you long enough. What's with the dressing up? Twenty-second century Hollywood isn't that different. Except, of course, for the massive, shiny bright teeth practically everyone there has now. Good idea with the sunglasses there, Amy."

"Thank you, Doctor," Amy said, smirking.

Rory let his arms stretch out to his sides and he asked, "How do I look, Doctor?"

"Typical," the Doctor said, wrinkling his nose slightly and shaking his head, making Amy suppress a grin.

Rory looked at her and she gulped and said, "Sorry."

"It's all right; it might work in blending in with you humans," the Doctor said, waving his hands around. He smacked his hands against each other and rubbing them together, his childish face lit up, and he said, "Well, should we head on out there?"

"This isn't going to result in us having to save the world?" Rory said, raising an eyebrow and shifting a bit forward.

"Again?" added Amy.

"And are we just going to have a nice vacation in Hollywood? You know, see movie sets and all that?" Rory said.

The Doctor smiled mischievously and said, "I could say that," and Amy scoffed, shaking her head as she said, "Rule number one."

"Exactly," the Doctor said, turning and pointing to the front door. Touching his pocket to feel his sonic screwdriver, he nodded and darted for the knob.

Rory and Amy looked at each other, both silently accepting it while hoping that they won't have to take to arguing with some aliens who vaporized a few humans in trying to take over the planet. Rory shrugged and said, "Well, what did we expect?"

"I'm getting used to it," Amy said. She straightened and said, soundly like she had just realized something, "Is that normal?"

"Of course not, Mrs. Pond," Rory said matter-of-factly.

Amy smiled at him and the Doctor called back from the entrance, where he was holding the door slightly open, "Hey, no snogging! I'm putting that as a rule! No sudden make— _MAKING OUT_ sessions right before we head out!"

Amy and Rory turned to see his horrified, annoyed, emphatic and ordering face, and hurried up to him.

"What are YOU waiting for?" Amy said, raising an eyebrow as she and Rory swept past him into Hollywood.

The Doctor smiled softly and said, "That's more like that." He stepped out of the TARDIS, closing the door behind him, and quickly took his spot between Rory and Amy, putting his arms around their shoulders, looking very happy as he spread out his fingers and said, "Lady and centurion, I present America's Hollywood."

Before them was an intersection. In one corner was a large, wide, white building. The other corners were parking lots, expensive clothing stores, with sidewalks lined with street performers . There was people, painted and primed, walking their perfectly pampered pets on their leashes. Even their rabbits, who had curly hair around them, like poodles.

"Whoa," Amy said.

"Well, a little more plastic than you knew, but, what's life without change?" the Doctor said. He pointed out a woman with straight, dyed blonde hair getting nearly attacked by paparazzi as she entered the white, flat, wide building. Her limo drove away as she waved at the flashing cameras and didn't offer a word to be used against her in magazines and interviews as she disappeared into the building.

"Well, that's Hollywood for you," Amy said, shrugging.

"Let's see, whatEVER shall we do first?" the Doctor said, looking back and forth from Amy to Rory, a pleased look on his face.

Rory shrugged. "I dunno." He and the Doctor turned to the redhead. "Amy?"

Amy looked to her boys and said, "Since we're in Hollywood, the land of the movies and stars, might as well take in the lay of the land."

"Meaning?" Rory said.

"I want to go to a movie set. I want to go to a studio!" Amy said, raising her right hand in a fist pump. "C'mon, meet the future stars. And then, when we're really old, we can point out guys with small parts in movies and say, 'They're going to make it big!'"

"Autographs could be really, REALLY cool," Rory said, nodding, starting to get into it.

"What do you mean, Rory? Autographs are ALWAYS cool," the Doctor said. His arms slipped off of his Ponds and adjusted his dark red bow tie proudly. He smirked as he said, "Like bow ties."

"Oh, don't you even try that, Raggedy Man," Amy said, shaking her head as she grabbed Rory's arm and started off to the movie studio, which was the building the woman with the paparazzi had entered.

"Oh, now I will, just to annoy you, Pond," the Doctor said as he darted across the street on a red hand, stopping all traffic. Rory had picked up his feet and walked up to the door, which had a lock on it.

"Um, Doctor?" Rory said, looking behind him and shifting to allow the Time Lord to come in.

"Just wait a minute, Rory," the Doctor said, fumbling to get out his screwdriver. He looked from Pond to Pond and said, "I'm still mad at her."

"Oh, I thought you got used to it already," Amy said.

The Doctor didn't say anything for a moment, but as quick as a wink, brought his screwdriver and said, "And what would you do without me?"

"Oh, you," Amy said, shaking her head, a smile on her face as the Doctor pressed a button on his screwdriver, making it buzz as he passed it over the little metal box that was the lock. He nodded and said, pocketing the screwdriver, "Open it up, Rory."

Rory did so, and the three of them walked into what looked like a great little village. There was carts carrying supplies for sets and golf carts carrying writers with their clipboards, directors with their assistants and managers with their megaphones, calling for actors to head to certain studio sets.

To their left was a building with dressing rooms and trailers, where assistants and set people with headphones were rushing in and out of. Something smelled like a food truck bringing along lunch. It was all terribly loud and fast.

Amy nodded, impressed, and, turning to the Doctor, said, "Where to first, Doctor?"

"Naturally, let's get a look of the grounds, see if we can find some show being cameraed," the Doctor said as the three, side by side, started walking.

"Shot, Doctor. They shoot telly shows," Rory pointed out.

"That's mean of them," the Doctor said, frowning and shaking his head.

Amy tilted her head to give him a look.

The three passed through into an intersection made of different, narrow cement streets in the building's courtyard, overhearing a man with a megaphone calling, "All actors for 'Simulation' are to head to studio B. Come on, people!"

"It's a bit chaotic, for a studio," Rory said, bending so that someone carrying a bunch of beams wouldn't hit him in the head.

"Did you expect it not to be?" Amy asked.

"I was expecting . . . I don't know, a lot more boredom, a bit more quietness for shooting the scenes," Rory said.

"Oh, don't worry, Rory. There's tons of actors and actresses sitting around for their shoots. A bunch of kids too, though not for so long. They can only have kids for a few hours each day. Child labor laws, of course," the Doctor said conversationally as the three started past a trailer, from which they heard a great deal of shouting.

". . . and THAT'S what I think of you, you idiot!" a woman yelled, and the three time travelers stopped to see a blonde-haired woman, the same one they had seen entering the building, stomping out of the trailer, a purse on her arm, a look of fury on her perfectly makeuped face.

"Wonder what happened there," Amy said as the woman shouted more insults at a man, who was peeking out of the door, yelling at her to get out of the studio.

"Major blowup, a pretty woman yelling. She probably just got fired," Rory said, looking to Amy.

Amy shrugged and said, bobbing her head side to side, "Would explain the temper."

The blonde-haired woman shouted another insult and said, turning and rushing past the three, "I'm calling my lawyer. You are NOT firing Camille Burnett!"

"Well, let's hope no other studio hears of her explosive temper," the Doctor said observantly.

"She won't get hired again," Amy said, shaking her head.

"Yeah—" Rory said, and he sounded like he was going to continue when he heard, "Hey, you!"

Slightly cringing, the Centurion, Amy, and the Doctor turned to the man in the trailer doorway. He was a tall young man, with light brown hair and an authoritative air about him. He raised an eyebrow and said, "Who the hell are you?"

The Doctor smiled pleasantly and said, "Oh, hello, thank goodness we found you!" With one hand, he produced his psychic paper and holding it up, said, "We're Rory, Amy and the Doctor, and we're here to act."

**Thanks for reading!  
**


	2. Makeup and Sneaking About

**Thank you, God, for everything. **

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Doctor Who. He he he, Rory and Amy with the 11th Doctor . . . they just . . . they make me happy, and that is why I try not to think about The Angels Take Manhattan very much. Thanks for reading! God bless you!**

"'Act?' Act in what?" the man who had been yelling said, clearly confused.

"The paper, sir," the Doctor said, undeterred, nodding toward the object in his hand, and the man looked at the physic paper and instantly nodded, making the Doctor nod with a mischievous gleam in his eye and pocket the paper.

"You're here for the 'Mixed Culture' show. The - oh, yes, Jemson told me he was sending over new people who did well in the auditions. Sorry about that canceled appointment I missed," the man said.

"Absolutely no problem," the Doctor said cheerfully. He tilted his head and said, "Though, I think - me and my colleagues - " - Rory and Amy instantly nodded, each knowing that it was the right thing to do - "your name got lost in translation. What was it again?"

"James Peering," the man said, nodding. He grinned and said, "Director of Mixed Culture."

"Ah, yes, absolutely fabulous. We can't wait; we've been terribly excited about being in it," the Doctor said.

Rory instantly nodding, saying, "Oh, yeah. Totally."

"Oh, yes, haven't been this excited for anything compared to this," Amy said, nodding, instantly going with the Doctor's story.

"Yes, right; when do we begin?" Rory asked.

"Wait a minute here," the director said, and he turned back into his trailer, out of sight, leaving the sounds of him banging around to tell the three friends he was looking for something.

"Oh my gosh, we're actually going to be in a telly show!" Amy said. She jumped up and down slightly, saying, "I get to be a celebrity."

"It's the least you can be, traveling through space and time with the Doctor," Rory pointed out.

"Yeah, it's not like I've become a president or queen yet," Amy said. She looked thoughtful at the idea, though, and said, "Maybe I should become a president."

"Oh, I feel sorry for that country already," the Doctor whispered to himself, and he winced slightly when he turned to see that Amy was giving him a glaring look. "I mean, of course," he quickly added, "they'd have a bossy and strict leader, a fantastic one."

"Yeah, who doesn't take that sort of talk about her from anyone," Amy said, and she smirked and gently smashed her fist against his skull, ruffling his long hair even more than usual, making it totally silly.

Rory smiled and the director popped up, holding three groups of paper, each collected with staples and a black clasp on top of them, keeping them together. He handed one to each of the three, all looking interested, and said, "Here's a copy for each of you of the script for the first episode, 'The Diva and the Geek.' Each of your lines are highlighted with different colored markers." He let out a breath, and looked excited. "Thanks, I gotta go. I'll get Simon to call for you when it's time to shoot the meeting scene," and he raced past them into the chaos of Hollywood.

Amy and Rory watched him leave before turning back to their scripts, Amy saying, "Well, that was quick."

"I'm the GEEK?!" the Doctor said, scowling, looking up from the script to the confused faces of the Ponds. "Why am I the Geek? Do I look like the Geek?" He looked at his clothes, from his suspenders and bow tie to his tweed shirt. "I am the absolute OPPOSITE of a geek!"

"Doctor, no you're not," Rory said, shaking his head.

"Doctor, give you a pocket protector and big 90s' glasses and you're the epitome of geekiness," Amy said. She tilted her head and said, imitating the Doctor, "'Oh, look, my screwdriver has caught the outer spherical temperance of a galaxian field that's filled with timey-'"

"'Wimey,'" said Rory.

"'-stuff'," Amy said, and she gave the Doctor a look, making him quietly smile.

"Got me down pat, have you, Ponds?" he said, smirking, almost looking very paternally proud. It reminded him when Rose was able to properly say, "Raxacoricofallapatorius."

"A bit," Amy said, shrugging.

"Well, at least I'm not portraying the Diva," the Doctor said, still smirking.

Rory instantly looked at his script and laughed, saying, "Oh my gosh, it's like this role_ is_ Amy!"

Amy gave him a look and said, looking at the script, her eyebrows drawing together, "Oh my gosh, you're right. What did he do, do a full body scan on us and then transfer our personalities onto a script?"

She looked to the Doctor, who shrugged, saying to her, "Could be possible."

"Yeah, 'cause this sounds exactly like me," Rory said, examining his script. "And I'm playing a Roman." He looked to Amy and the Doctor and said, "That's just strange."

"At least we don't have go through wardrobe," Amy said. She spun around, saying, "I so called it on getting dressed up for Hollywood."

"We're probably going to have to go through makeup. I'm going to need it; I think I'm going through a nine-hundred-and-nine-year-old phase. I'm getting a zit, right here," the Doctor said, and he leaned forward toward Rory, making him back up.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, Doctor," Rory said. "I don't need to see it; I'm sure it's not deadly or whatever."

"Where is the makeup department?" Amy said, looking around the passing carts, interested.

"There's only one way to find it," the Doctor said, descending the steps to the trailer onto the pavement.

"Asking someone? Who?" Rory asked, looking around the shouting people and the people on cellphones with megaphones.

"Oh, well, I was thinking about walking around and exploring, poking our noses (especially your long one, have you noticed that you have a long nose, Rory?)" - Rory threw him a not amused look - "oh, you did, well, into places where we shouldn't, but that way might work too," the Doctor said.

"Let's go find us a makeup department then," Amy said, and the three of them started out into the Hollywood studio traffic once more, and, well, not TOO surprisingly, nobody gave them any weird looks for wearing a bow tie and a Roman Centurion outfit. It was perfectly normal around there. "Maybe they can finally make you a ginger. You're always saying, 'I wonder if next time I'll have ginger hair.' What does that even mean, Doctor?" Amy said curiously.

The Doctor took a deep breath and not wanting to talk and explain the horrors and tiny perks that never appear of regeneration, just said jokingly, "Maybe I will do that, Amy. Not the color of your hair, though. That'd be weird."

"MY hair is weird?" Amy said. She reached out and ruffled his hair, saying, "Have you seen yours lately?"

"Yes, matter of fact, I have," the Doctor said. He swatted her hand away and said, messing his hair back into a mess, "Still not ginger, though."

The two of them continued with their friendly, teasing banter as they walked about, and none of the three noticed the blonde woman who had just been fired by James Peering. She was still in the studio, and looking around from behind a set prop of a large sprawling rainbow, looking around to see if anybody noticed her. She had been on the other side of the studio, near the trailers, when she and James had gotten into a fight, so hopefully nobody knew of her being fired over here.

Even so, as she applied a bit more lipstick to her full lips and puckered them, she slipped a hand into her purse and pulled out a pair of sunglasses, setting them on the bridge of her nose, just in case. She hurried out from behind the rainbow and headed to Studio E, where they were setting up a meeting scene in the Diva's apartment in Mixed Culture.

Camille Burnett hurried past the cameramen with their giant cameras and wires rolling on rails all around, the men with their megaphones, and a set from wardrobe rushing to 'Driven,' bearing a series of swords and shields. She nearly bumped into one of her fellow actors for 'Mixed Culture,' quickly slipping behind a wall. He was dressed up in a stereotypical alien outfit, dressed to nines as an alien leader. His real name was Levi, and the two of them had a relatively good relationship from the past couple of days of them reading their scripts and getting fitted for their outfits.

She had thought that he hadn't seen her, but of course he turned and saw her.

"Camille, why're you hiding behind the wall? Aren't you needed in wardrobe? They need you as the Diva, you know," Levi said, holding his alien helmet in his hands. He had long black hair and an earring in his ear and looked almost concerned.

"Oh, don't worry about it, Levi," Camile said cheerfully. "Just head on - I need to get to the set real quick."

"Okay, don't be late, though," Levi said, and he hurried away.

Camille smirked and let out a breath, glad he took the bait. She quickly entered the building and found the studio. She sneaked inside, and nobody noticed her as they set up the cameras and lights up ahead.

She moved past them onto the set, knowing that if anyone recognized her they'd just think she was early for the scene. Nobody around here knew it yet that she was fired.

The set was of a California condo setting with a view of a beautiful beach. The beaches around Hollywood weren't what they used to look like a hundred years ago; now they were covered in trash and most of them were closed down with men heading in with special filters to get the toxins out of the water. Camille had actually never been to one of those beaches; she had a private one specially recreated in her backyard.

She moved amongst the furniture. She remembered from the script that Diva and Alien were going to have an argument in the kitchen, and so that was where she headed. Kneeling beside the sink, she pulled out of her purse a large grenade looking thing. She stuck it in a shelf in a vase to hide it, stood up, looking composed, and hurried out of that set, hurrying to get to the other studios without anyone noticing her.

* * *

"Oh, I like it here," Amy said, nodding enthusiastically as the Doctor, she and Rory walked into the makeup room, which was a room with a ton of set up mirrors and slots for individuals with salon chairs. All along the wall was a set of wigs and lotions, creams, dyes, and makeup.

"Smells a bit," Rory pointed out, looking to Amy.

"Beauty comes at a cost," Amy said dismissively. "Don't you remember in those old TV shows where women used to put that green cream on their faces at night? You actually think they liked that?"

"I'm fairly certain they didn't," Rory said.

A woman came up to them, wearing a clean cut blonde wig and deeply colored eyes. "Hello. I am Jasmine. And you are?"

"Oh, hello, Jasmine, charmed," the Doctor said, offering her his hand. "I'm the Doctor. Amy, Rory," he nodded to the married couple.

"Pleasure," Jasmine said as one of her fellow makeup artists came hurrying up to her.

"Jasmine, where's Camille? She's got a scene in ten minutes and I've got to set the wig on her," the woman said quickly.

"She should be here in a couple of minutes, Jev," Jasmine said. "They're doing a scene with her, and they can't do it without the Diva."

Amy cocked her head and waved her hand around, saying, "Um, hello."

"Yes?" Jasmine said.

"I'm the Diva, for Mixed Culture," Amy said.

The Doctor and Rory nodded, Rory saying, "Yeah, she just got the part."

Jasmine and Jev both looked incredulously calm. After a moment, Jasmine said, "You don't understand. We have a Diva, and that's Camille."

"Then why did the director, James Peering, hand me this script for me to look over?" Amy said, cocking her head and holding up her script, wearing a sassy expression.

The Doctor nodded and said, holding up his script, "Yes, and I'm the 'Geek,' don't know why, though. Just sort of, well, happened." He waved his hands and laughed, making Jasmine and Jev look even more unamused.

"I'm going to go find James," Jev said, walking past them, her high heels clicking on her way out.

"In the meantime, MAKEUP!" Amy said, clapping her hands excitedly.

Jasmine approached the three and looked, scrutinizing, from face to face. On Amy's, she said, "Hmmm, just a bit more lipstick. It'll do wonders." On the Doctor, "Your hair needs to be brushed." Rory. "Your nose-"

"You're not touching the nose," Rory said quickly, taking a step back.

"Yeah, don't touch the Nose," the Doctor said quickly.

Jasmine pursed her lips. "I see. C'mon along, Doctor," and she grabbed the Doctor's wrist and hurried him to a cubicle, leaving him saying, "Hey, what are you doing? Ouch, my wrist, that hurts, you know - you've got amazing strength-"

He was shoved into a swivel chair, and Jasmine let go of him and went to get a hairbrush. The Doctor spun around twice, saying, "Oh, this is fun! Oh, I like this."

Jasmine stopped his swivel chair in front of the mirror, and the Doctor straightened, gave her a look about her stopping his spinning, and said, "Now, let me use the brush-"

"I know how to brush hair, Doctor. It's my job," Jasmine said indignantly.

"You don't understand, I've got this style, very complicated, there's folding and waves and I've got this goo for it from the planet of the Hair-Mongers - OW!" he said, as the brush was taken through his hair, which was a bit tangled with Amy's ruffling. "Now THAT hurts!"

"Oh, calm down," Jasmine said, and her wire brush ran through his hair and molded it, leaving it swiftly swept off to the side in a silky wave. She humphed and put the brush on the table in front of the mirror, and looked into the mirror with the Doctor, saying, "Did I ruin it?"

The Doctor used both of his hands to touch up and touch his hair, tilting his head and shrugging. "Could have been better. Will do, though."

Jasmine rolled her eyes and they both turned when they heard a man, presumably Simon, wearing a headset, saying, "All actors and actresses for Mixed Culture head to studio E, now, come on, let's move, people!"

Amy turned her head from where she was getting lipstick applied and said, "That's us!"

"Let's go," Rory said, hurrying to the Doctor.

"Yes, let's," the Doctor said. The two of them headed to the door, and the Doctor said quietly, making Rory lean his ear to him, "Privately, I'm glad to be rid of that Jasmine."

Rory nodded and Amy came up to them. She cocked her head, her sunglasses reflecting the lights above them, and said slyly, "C'mon, my boys. Let's go be movie stars."

"TV show stars," Rory pointed out.

"Whatever works for you," Amy said, and she draped her arms around her boys and the three of them headed out into the hall to find Studio E.

**Thanks for reading! God bless you!**


	3. Jerking Around

**Thank you, God, for everything. **

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Doctor Who. *Yippeddy-yada about author's note* God bless you!**

The three followed Simon to a large doorway, which they quickly peeked into. The Doctor grinned and said, taking in the wires and the cameras and the set with all the people rushing about and a janitor quickly sweeping the floor, "Well, this should be brilliant."

"Looks fantastic," Amy said, nodding approvingly.

"Get it, c'mon, we've got a schedule to keep," Simon said, and the three hurried into the studio.

Rory turned around and round and said, "First time ever on a TV set. Okay, it's pretty cool."

"That doesn't sound grand enough to describe it," Amy said. She spun around and said, cocking her head, "Oh, c'mon, be more eloquent than that, Mr. Pond. It's grand, fantastic, huge, amazing, wondrous-"

"The mere fact that you find this peasant-y Earth Hollywood studio far more fascinating than the planets of Zurraba or the palace of the Fallen Queen on the island of Tanhu in the Sixth Galaxy finds me thinking I've underwhelmed you before, Pond," the Doctor said, playing with his hair in a long, floor length mirror.

"Oh, Doctor, you know I love those places," Amy said.

The Doctor smirked. "Oh, I know, Pond."

James Peering came through the door, capturing their attention, and said, clapping his hands, "All right, everyone, into positions!"

"Wait, what, positions?" Amy said, looking confused. "What positions?"

"I haven't a clue," Rory said, looking confused.

The Doctor sighed at the Ponds' ignorance and turning from the mirror, marched up to Amy and grabbed the stack of paper from her hand. "Honestly, Pond, they've literally spelled it out for you!" he said, turning the page to the kitchen arguing scene. He grinned to himself at his genius and nearly forced the manuscript back into Amy's hands, saying proudly, tapping his finger against the first sentence, "It's right there."

Amy looked at it and nodding, said, "Okay," and she shoved the papers back into the Doctor's hands and hurried across the room to the kitchen by the sink.

Rory came up to the Doctor, leaning toward him and saying, "Hey, do we have any appearances in this scene?"

"Can't you read? Honestly, Rory," the Doctor said. He held out Amy's script and pointed, saying, "Look, you're on the couch the entire time, eating crisps. I enter after the two of them make up and wonder what the hell is going on."

"Oh, simple enough," Rory said.

"Yes, so, Roman, positions!" the Doctor said, nodding, and he threw the script at Rory, who somehow caught it.

Beside Rory came up Levi, who was wearing his alien helmet. "Oh, you're new," Levi said.

"Yeah. Just got hired, actually," Rory said, laughing a little breathlessly.

"Cool. I'm Levi," and the alien offered his hand.

Rory shook it, saying, "I'm Rory."

"Levi, c'mon, thirty seconds!" James yelled from his director's chair.

"Coming," Levi said, and he rushed to the set. The kitchen had a back door that was just the left of the set, and he stood outside the door, ready to go in when the director called, "Action!"

Amy looked around the kitchen uncertainly as the props man put down objects on the counter and whispered her instructions before leaving, and the director said, "Amy, Amy, hold the knife. You're cutting up an onion."

"Onion?" Amy said incredulously, grabbing the vegetable from the props basket next to her. "Excuse me, but divas do NOT cut up onions."

"What do they cut up that makes them cry, then?" the director said.

"Fine," Amy said, rolling her eyes as she poised a knife over the onion, which was on a cutting board. "Say action, boyo."

"Okay, twenty seconds," the director called, and Rory rushed to the couch of the living room, where a bowl of crisps was waiting on the coffee table. Uncertain as to what he was expected to do, he took up the bowl and set it on his lap and tentatively started to eat them. The telly in front of him was turned on to a very small volume to give the illusion he was actually watching it.

The stage manager counted down from his fingers, and the director called through his megaphone, "Action!"

The camera turned a red light on and the microphone grew closer. Amy sighed dramatically and said, cutting up the onion, "That stupid, sentimental, ugly, judgmental, insulting jerk Alien! The next time I see him, he's getting it!" A squirt of onion juice hit her in the eye, and Amy squealed and touched a hand to her eye, making look like she was crying.

The door behind her opened, and the Alien came in, saying, "Oh my gosh, Diva! What's making you so sad?"

"Nothing, it's the onion!" Amy said.

"Sureeeee it is," the Alien said, sounding almost amused at her coverup, and there was a pause in the conversation where studio laughter would be inserted.

"I'm serious, go away, Alien!" Amy said harshly.

"No, I can't. I just can't leave it like we did," Alien said.

"You did then," Amy said. "You went to your mother's."

A pause with the Alien wearing an incredulous look on his face. Amy wiped at her eyes and said, glaring at the Alien, "Why did you come back? I'm kind of hating you at the moment."

"Because I love you, Diva," the Alien said, and as Amy had remembered, she was just supposed to lower her sunglasses and flick her hair behind her shoulder, but instead, the Alien rushed forward and kissed her soundly on the lips with his own fake ones. Rory looked over the side of the sofa, astounded, and the Doctor came easily into the scene through the back door, having not seen what had just went down, and said, "Well, how's things-" and he saw the two, and he let out a very surprised, girlish scream, and said, "What the hell are you two doing!?" and rushed forward, walking circles around them, trying to frantically think of a way to get them apart.

Amy let out a frantic noise, like she was drowning, and pulled away, looking shocked and gulping back bile.

"Seriously, though, what WAS THAT?" the Doctor said, looking from the aghast Amy to the Alien, who looked undeterred.

The director sighed and yelled, "Cut!"

Rory immediately got up, pushing the Alien roughly away from him, an almost murderous sort of look on his face, and went to Amy, quickly gripping his hands gently on her shoulders. "Amy, are you okay?" he said.

Amy nodded quickly and said, frantically moving her hands, "I swear, Rory, I wasn't expecting that!"

Rory just nodded slightly and put his forehead against hers. He took a deep breath as the director hurried to the Doctor, who said sternly, "I should have you know I am only allowing Amelia to kiss Rory, not some alien!"

"It's in the script," the director said, holding out a script stack. He flipped to that scene and said slowly, annoyed, "You need just TURN the page to the conclusion of the scene. Have none of you noticed it at the top of the page?"

The Doctor looked sheepish as he said, turning to be side by side with James, "Well, I suppose I missed that bit."

"Obviously," Amy said from behind Rory.

"Well, it's - just - take five, people, and be better prepared for the scene next time," James said. "Come on, we've got a schedule to keep."

That was when Rory turned from Amy, her fingers still trying to clasp his, and to James, said, "Um, excuse me. This scene can't just work like this."

"Oh, yes, it does," James said. He waved his hands and said, "The Alien and the Diva are in a romantic relationship-"

"Yeah, you're going to have to write out that kiss and add a love triangle, then," Rory said.

"Oh, plot twist!" the Doctor said, nodding approvingly, looking childishly delighted. "Keep the audience on their toes. Albeit, an overused cliché, but who the hell cares?" He threw his hands in the air and seemed satisfied with himself.

Rory turned to James and said, "What he said." His voice grew more stern as he added, "I'm not having anyone else KISS my WIFE."

"The script-" James started.

Rory gave him a death glare.

"Yes, better listen to the Roman. He's not afraid to, you know, get feisty," the Doctor said, brandishing his fists and punching the air lightly in emphasis.

"That's okay, Doctor," Amy said, putting a hand on her friend's shoulder. She looked to the director and cocked her head. "Yeah, though. He's not afraid to tear you apart, 'ey, Rory?"

Rory didn't say a word.

Amy nodded confidently and tilting her glasses down on her nose, said, "Better listen, boyo."

The director was about to say something, but instead there was a powerful hissing noise, making the Doctor hold out his arms and say, "Quick, everybody, stop moving!"

Everyone froze, looking fearful, and the Doctor said, "Did anyone else hear that? Sort of hiss-y sound or whatever, sounded AWFULLY suspicious to me?"

"Shouldn't we run then?" Rory said loudly, holding up his hands like he was being arrested.

"Yeah, that's sort of what we normally do," Amy said.

"Ah, yes, but OBSERVE, Ponds, we don't know what we're running FROM," the Doctor said, spinning slowly around, bending down slightly and craning his neck for something. He smiled and said, "Well, that'd be sort of stupid, running away from something you haven't seen to be able to run from it!"

"Doctor!" Amy said, and then her arms started to jerk. She grunted and tried to keep them still but then her legs started to act up, and she said even more loudly, "Doctor!"

"Oh, fascinating," the Doctor said, stepping towards Amy.

"Oh, great, he finds this fascinating," Amy said sarcastically when suddenly Levi and Rory started to do the same, which was hard for the both of them in their hard costumes.

"You're reacting to something," the Doctor said.

"Yeah, no kidding!" Rory said loudly, sounding annoyed.

"I can't stop it! Make me stop, Doctor!" Amy said.

"You want me to? Fine!" the Doctor said loudly, getting as annoyed as Rory, and he reached out and grabbed Amy's hands, trying as he could with his thin muscles to stop her from jerking around. "I'm trying it your way; it's not working!"

"We have to get out of here," Amy said loudly, as the director and camera crew began become overcome by the jerking motions as well. "Doctor, this is getting serious, we can't control ourselves!"

"You can walk, can't you? Okay, so much for my plan, everyone listen to Queen Bee Amy and let's run!" the Doctor said, pointing to the exit and running to it.

"We CAN'T run, Doctor," Rory reminded him.

The Doctor peered around the exit's door and said, "Well, hop around then, if you can."

"Doctor! Come on!" Rory said.

The Doctor sighed and said, walking in, "Seriously, come on, Ponds, out out out out!" He pointed to the crew and the director and said, "You all shoo, too. I'm the Geek, and the Geek has some alien investigation."

"It's alien?" Amy said while Levi looked properly horrified.

"More than likely, always ends up being alien, Amelia," the Doctor said as all the people managed to start their way out the door.

He peered around the kitchen and just pulled out his screwdriver and began to pick up traces of an odorless and invisible gas when Amy shouted, "Doctor!"

"What, Amy?" the Doctor shouted back.

"It's happening all over the studio, you MAY want to come quick!"

The Doctor dashed off the set.

**Thanks for reading! I'mma going to watch David Copperfield from 1999, which has about 20% of Britain's actors and actresses in it. God bless you!**


	4. A Bunch of Dancing

**Thank You, God, for everything.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Doctor Who. Oh, looky, an update. HOW STRANGE. Okey dokey, hey, guys, I entered this Doctor Who writing contest, and it would mean an awful gosh darn lot if you hearted my story 'cause I want to win and stuff, you know. You can find it on my profile - just delete the spaces. Thankies! :)  
**

Amy's eyes were comically widened, making her look like an animated kid's show zombie-robot. If this wasn't creeping her out, she would have laughed at how silly everyone was looking. And she meant everyone, for everywhere around the studios, from the janitor's closets to the bathrooms to the makeup rooms, there was shouts of horror and surprised as they all turned into controlled puppets.

"Doctor! Why exactly are we acting like this?" Rory shouted, for they were in one of the wide and tall halls, and the Doctor was darting ahead, away from them, his sonic screwdriver in front of him like a stop sign, making people hurry to avoid him.

"I'm looking for a cause, Rory. Stay calm, all in good time, Roman," the Doctor said, and he skitted to a stop and banged at his screwdriver with the palm of his hand. Stupid thing wasn't getting anything! Not over here, anyway. Oh, wait! and he darted into another studio.

"He's off exploring again, isn't he?" Amy said, looking over to her husband.

Rory sighed and nodded.

"He's like a little kid, isn't he?" Amy commented.

"Most of the time," Rory said. He glanced at his robot-like limbs. "Oh, gosh, I feel like an idiot."

"Idiot puppet, actually," Amy said, her limbs jerking up and down and to the side. She grinned. "I feel like one of those robots you see performing in the streets."

"Yeah, but we've got no control over what we do," Rory said.

"Cheer up, Roman," Amy said, winking at him.

He smiled at that.

The Doctor came hurrying out of the room, bending his legs to a smooth angle and swishing out like he was wearing socks on a freshly waxed floor.

"Hello!" he said excitedly, looking to Amy and Rory. "I may have found the reason everyone's acting so, well, weird."

"More than usual?" Amy said, raising an eyebrow.

"Weird? In Hollywood? How odd," Rory said.

"How ood," the Doctor said wittily, and then a second passed and his grin disappeared as his hand holding his sonic screwdriver began to shake and twitch. "Oh, no no no no no no no no no no no!" the Doctor said hurriedly, as his feet and knees and neck started to twitch as well. He let out a shout of disgust as it overcame his entire body, making him look like he was doing a very strange dance, the very look of a puppet on strings.

"What the hell is happening!" the Doctor said loudly, looking incredulously over to the Ponds, who both looked like they were going to die with laughter. "Oh, look smug, will you, but the same thing is happening to you!"

Amy just died.

"Oh, shut up!" the Doctor yelled. "Oh, I feel terribly like a human, all vulnerable like this! Disgusting!"

"Hey, you're insulting my race!" Rory pointed out.

"Don't see us insulting your Time Lords," Amy said.

"Oh, shut it, Ponds!" the Doctor said, and he smashed into the wall, his side taking the brunt of the impact. "Blimey, that hurts," he groaned. He hurried ahead. They were still in a bit of control with their legs, and all were traveling to the exits of the studios. In a stumbling sort of way, like a bunch of drunks, the Ponds and the Doctor hurried out of the main building and wound their way through the traffic of the studios, avoiding the skidding golf carts and the people spinning in circles. They were like malfunctioning Cybermen.

The Doctor struck a button on his screwdriver and managed to buzz the lock on the gates, and he pushed the doors to the studios open with his shoulder and he and the Ponds piled out on the sidewalk.

"What are we doing?" Amy called. Rory hit the studios' outside wall.

"Heading for the TARDIS. To the beach. Anywhere from that gas!" the Doctor said, walking stumpily ahead.

"There's a gas, now?" Rory said, cocking his head and then tilting it to a painful angle. "Ouch!"

"What'd you think it was, Pond?" the Doctor said, and then something happened. He felt very loose, like a nail struck from its boards, or a cannon. His limbs felt all wibbly instead of grindy, and he suddenly fell, very lax, to the sidewalk.

"Doctor?" Amy said, concerned, before she felt the same and fell to the ground.

Rory fell beside her, letting out an annoyed, "Ow."

The Doctor immediately sprung up, as chipper as a child once more. "Oh, oh, oh oh oh goody!" he said, waving his hands in front of himself gleefully. "I've recovered full authority over my being!"

"I'd rather have that all of the time," Amy said, sitting up and looking as if she had just risen from bed. She rubbed the back of her head with her hand, and looked around to see several people coming, creeping around the corners while keeping the police trapped in their throngs.

"Hey, boys?" Amy said, commanding the eyes of Rory, who was laying flat on his back, and the Doctor, who finally stopped becoming so fixated with his hands. "We've got company."

Oh crap. Paps.

Rory sighed and turned his head to look at the sky. He threw up his hands and said, "Brilliant."

"Now's the time I'd say 'Run,' but if you did that, you'd smash headfirst into that wall right there." (The Doctor pointed ahead.) "So just skedaddle back into the studios and let's go find where that can of gas is!"

"Who's saying it's a can?" Amy asked, wobbling as she got to her feet.

"Who's saying it isn't?" the Doctor said, rubbing his hands together excitedly as Amy groaned as she pulled Rory to his feet.

"Let's just move, shall we?" Amy said, and the three darted back to the gates. Avoiding the questions from the paps about their clothes and why they were hurrying into the studios, they hurried in and the Doctor backed into the gate doors, pushing them together and locking the lock. He let out a breath, and then a yelp as hands and camera lenses touched his back.

He skipped, rubbing hands against his clothes, to in between Rory and Amy, saying with disgust toward the paps, "Do - you - mind!"

"It's just their job, Doctor," Amy pointed out.

"Doesn't make it all right with me," the Doctor said. He let out a shudder and fixing his tweed jacket, he turned around and put his arms around the shoulders of his friends, and said, "Shall we see if everyone else has recovered?"

"No, I was totally thinking of the opposite of that," Rory said.

"I like my plan better. Come along, Ponds," the Doctor said rather cheerfully, a bright smile on his face, and the three, their steps synchronized, walked forward and took in the sights of the Hollywood peoples.

The golf carts had stopped and several were crashed into different pieces of equipment, which had been, no doubt here, very expensive. The Doctor could tell this from the looks of horror from the many faces of the directors and producers and staff members.

Several were stumbling around on their feet, trying to regain control of their bodies, which were now like jelly. Several were looking at themselves, amazed that it had worn off. Others were yelling, wondering what had happened? Some wanted an explanation quickly. Others had megaphones on. Others were shouting into headsets, others rushing carts full of props across the lot.

"The gas wore off them," Amy observed, sounding pleased.

"But how?" Rory wondered, curious. "Was it a temporal thing, or does it have a longer lasting effect as time goes by, giving them a short break to make themselves feel reassured?"

"Or was it something they just needed to inhale and the side effects was the jottiness?" Amy suggested.

The Doctor looked between his favorite couple's faces proudly. He had taught them well, even if it was just by them being around him, being influenced by his assuming and theorizing ways.

"A-plus for effort, Ponds. BUT, I think I have a theory of my own," the Doctor said, raising his hands.

"And what would that be?" Amy said, sounding confused.

"Notice how everyone was heading out of the rooms and stuff. The studios, the loos and the trailers. We were heading out here. I think we were being _pulled _to something, like a gravity of some sort was _moving _us," the Doctor said.

"To what, though?" Amy said.

"Haven't a clue. That's what we need to figure out, though," the Doctor said cheerfully, and the three of them hurried through the lot back to the living room set. None of them noticed in the slightest Camille Burnett hanging in a doorway, sunglasses and big, plastic hair up, scowling as she cursed, looking about the lot. People were regaining control of themselves. Well, this would never do.

Inside of their studio room, the Doctor released his friends and leapt onto the sound-stage, bending and bowing his head and craning it as he spun around, saying, "All right, here it is."

"You found it?" Amy asked, cocking her head as she and Rory approached the stage.

"Oh, no. I meant the scene of the crime. For us, anyway." The Doctor's screwdriver was out and wavering around like it was riding on sound waves. "The currents are the heaviest over here, meaning this place is the source, which, you know, is terribly convenient." He stopped, still, at the gazing, wondering Ponds, and said, waving his hands, "For Pete's sake, help me look! It's hide-and-seek!"

"Oh, fine," Amy said, ducking her head around a sink as Rory headed over to the sofa and started to toss the cushions off of it.

They had just started when a number of people came into the room. Mostly cameramen and staff, but also James Peering, the director, looking haphazard and bedraggled.

"What was that?" he demanded, looking from Rory looking in the TV system's cupboards to Amy taking out stacks of cups in the kitchen to the Doctor flicking books off their shelves with a delicate finger.

The Doctor looked to James and said, "That was movie magic, Director."

"No it wasn't, come on," James said.

"Alien intervention, then," the Doctor said, not missing a beat.

"Strangely enough, Doctor, not everything strange that happens in Hollywood is alien," James said, scowling.

"Oh, I'm dead serious. Besides the dead part, of course," the Doctor said. He turned away from the empty bookshelves toward the kitchen's counter island, and he went around it and began to examine the shelves.

"Aliens? No, you can't be correct. Aliens DO NOT exist," James said, "not for real, honest, Doctor. I mean, have you ever seen ANYTHING resembling an alien, or any evidence of aliens at all?"

"He's living proof," Amy muttered under her breath.

"Ah-ha!" the Doctor said, and he emerged, his hair tussled, and his hand bearing the gas pod. He positively beamed. "How about this for your unbelieving eyes, James?" He straightened and bounced around to look from Pond to Pond, said, "You can give up the search. I found it." He turned back and let out a delighted noise as he ran past James to the exit.

"Hey, where are you going?" James called after him, but the Doctor ignored him.

"He'll figure it out, don't worry," Amy said, waving a hand as she leaned against the counter.

James shook his head at the exit, wondering what sort of mad man that Doctor was, and he turned to a staff member, who was pointing to a clipboard and explaining things in his ear. He nodded and sent her off to go get their people, and he clapped his hands and said, "All right, people. Let's get this show back together. Time is money, and I don't have a lot of it, so we need to shoot this scene, _despite _this _little _interference."

"Um, hey, sorry, no can do," Rory said, walking off the stage to stand next to James.

"No can do what? You're hired. It's your job," James said quickly.

"Yeah, but we can't do that scene. At all. Scratch it" - Rory made a rubbing motion with his hands across the air - "we can't have it."

"Why not?" James said, hands on his hips.

"Well, it's because he's feeling awfully protective of his wife and doesn't want her kissing other gross men," Amy said, falling into step next to Rory. She waved a hand toward Levi, who was carrying around his alien head in his hands, and said, "No offense."

"It's a part of the scene," James said emphatically. "It moves along the plot, interests you in the characters' story-lines. It can't be left out."

"Ya really want to say that, boy-o?" Amy said, cocking her head, Rory beside her looking murderous.

**To all who celebrate, happy Easter! :) God bless you!  
**


	5. Figuring Out Them Pods

**Thank You, God, for everything.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Doctor Who. I haven't been posting chapters or stories lately, but that's because of the age old excuse: I haven't the time. And I'm still writing a lot, though. It's weird. :/**

The Doctor was very pretty extra sure that no one had seen him leave. He had been sneaky, tiptoe-y, acting as if he was in a spy movie and being chased. Of course, this was not really the case. Not today, anyway. Instead he was walking around a confused studio with a little green pod in his hand, and he was not looking very sneaky at all. But he liked alluding himself. Lying. It was for the best, with him.

Using his psychic paper, he was easily able to make it out into the streets. He said, "Hello! Hello! Hi, very nice to see you! Lovely hair! You're going to be famous one day! For a scandal, terribly sorry," to the various paps, who were all make-uped and crowded around the studio. There was a news reporter, and she tried to get a hold of him, but he smiled and hurried away before she could get much of a statement out of him.

He was followed by a crowd of people with microphones and cameras, shouting and calling and commenting with bright lights in the wonderful sun. The Doctor, however, instead of being overwhelmed, straightened his bow tie and turned with a rolling of his eyes to his adoring crowd of wondering people still wondering what the hell had just happened in there and who the hell he was.

"Sir, why were you in that studio?" someone called, shoving a microphone in the Time Lord's face, making him close his eyes and shake his head slightly, like a wet puppy.

"Please move that, I can barely breathe," the Doctor said. The microphone was removed; he brightened with a smile, now able to breathe as he said, flicking his bow tie, "All right, one minute. Use your time wisely, I'll only answer the questions I find unusual, strange, or unusually strangely appealing for me."

"What is your name?" someone asked.

The Doctor looked a little ruffled and annoyed. "Well now, that's not an unusual or strange or an unusually strangely appealing question to me. Still," he straightened, "I suppose it's a fairly vital question. That's what you're going to put in the papers, aren't you? My name? Oh, isn't this wonderful. Dear goodness, well, it's the Doctor."

"'The Doctor'? Is that your real name?" the same someone asked, a woman with pink hair and a reporter's uniform on.

"You think it's not real? It's perfectly real," the Doctor said, sounding slightly offended.

"Are you in character, sir? Are you heading off to a set? For what show or movie is this Doctor going to be into?" the someone said.

"You," the Doctor said, pointing at the someone. "What is your name?"

"Lany Jiggs," the someone, now identified, said.

"Lany, now, dear Lany, here's some information for you. Be sure to write this down," the Doctor said, pointing to the paper pad in her hand. He tapped it then, and said, "I am the Doctor. I am NOT in character. Well, I am. Rich in it, actually, but I am the Geek and that's all at the moment, minute's up." He turned on his heel and said, waving his hand, "Cheerio, Hollywood people," and he began to run run run run until he had outpaced the crowd and was at the door to the TARDIS. He held up the gas pod admiringly to the shining sun, which glistened off the pod. He went back and forth from opening and closing his eyes at intervals, and said, "I'll figure you out." He turned and entered the TARDIS, slipping the key into his pocket as he hurried to the console, saying cheerily, "I'm back, Sexy!"

The TARDIS let out a cheer, and he looked at the top of her with a grin. "Miss me, old girl? Someone is getting sentimental." He held up the gas pod and said, "I found a Something. Isn't it pretty?" The TARDIS chirped. The Doctor nodded and put it on the console and pulled out his screwdriver. "Time to figure out what planet this is from."

* * *

Camille Burnett was a very conniving person. She knew that, and as with many of her flaws, she embraced it and used it to her advantage. She had her celebrity as well, and a worried look was the exactly the thing an actress like herself could portray perfectly. She straightened with her face perfectly concocted and, her high heels clopping against the ground like she was some horse, she made her way into the studio where James Peering was pointing fingers at a very angry looking Roman and some redhead with her hands on her hips, looking indignant.

"It's my script, and I'm not changing what I wrote!" James Peering said, tapping the papers in his hand.

"But I'm not kissing anyone but Rory, no one else, thank you," Amy said, tilting her head and not looking like she could be manipulated.

"I won't be ordered around like this," James said angrily.

"And what exactly are you going to do about it, then?" Rory said just as Camille came up, looking very worried.

"Goodness, James, what happened to the studio? It was so strange. I didn't know what to do. What caused that?" Camille wondered.

James looked annoyed. "Why were you still in the studio?"

Camille patted the large bag at her side. "Collecting my things."

"Why're ya doing that?" Amy wondered.

"James and I got into a . . . disagreement, and I've been ordered away from my job, which is now in your possession," Camille said, with an almost poisonous venom in her voice. This made Amy narrow her eyes and look at the actress with a little suspicion. "I was still here when we all turned into zombies. We looked worse than Zombie Movie 43 zombies. THAT was an embarrassment to Hollywood."

"Why are you still here, Camille?" James wanted to know.

Camille put a hand over her heart. "I-I was just checking along, making sure everyone was okay and back to normal again."

"Well, we are, and so you can leave now," James said.

"What caused it, exactly? Do you have any idea who? Why? A motive of some sort?" Camille wondered, her voice dripping with worry.

"We haven't a clue, and that's why we've got a specialist working on it," Amy said.

Camille raised an eyebrow. "Oh, good. Who?"

"Someone who isn't here right and now and has probably gotten lost," Amy said, and Rory raised an eyebrow and said, "Can anyone hear that?"

"Hear what?" James wondered.

"Oh, I can," Camille said. She smiled and puffed up her hair with her hand. "I can recognize that sound from a mile away."

"You've got a very good pair of ears, then," Amy said.

"That's the sound of the paps," Camille said.

James cursed and rolled his eyes. "That's great. What are we supposed to tell them? Strangely enough, 'no comment' won't hold them forever."

"I think I'll go and have a look-see at the progress of it all," Amy said. She patted Rory on the shoulder and whispered, "Good luck," and then quickly hurried through the studio, her high heels making thumping noises as she tried to push her way through the throngs of demanding people.

"Where's a security guard when you need one, aye?" Amy said, pushing past the paps to the gate. "Oi, move or I swear I will shove you away," Amy said venomously as she fumbled her way out of the gate and onto the sidewalk, which still had an unholy amount of people walking around and asking for an autograph or explanation as to what was happening in the studio. She'd roll her eyes and say, "It was extraterrestrial, okay? Geez," and she hurried (nearly leaped) for the next two minutes until she was safely able to sneak into the TARDIS and plant her back against her door. Breathing heavily, she looked up when the Doctor said, "Were you being chased, Amy?"

"Having the Japanese army pounding after me would have be easier than that," Amy said lightly, unsticking her back from the door and walking up to the TARDIS console. "So, what are you doing? Got any news?"

The Doctor looked up from where he was looking at the gas pod with goggles that amplified his eyes so he looked like a bug. He was pouring this and that on the gas pod, torching it and sprinkling it. He set his sonic screwdriver on it once more, though it did little help. "I am trying to figure out what planet is the origin of this. It doesn't look like it's from the Planet of Non-kooks, but the Astro Belt in the Left Field thinks highly of such packaging. The gas might be from the Kiki animals that reside on Tatsu-Vivi, but then again they usual vaporize it into a powder which can be in travel packs. It's a bit illegal, almost like your drugs. This won't get you high and dry, though. Doesn't have the same compounds to make the regions of your brain that control your thoughts do that sort of thing."

"You really are the Geek," Amy said, smirking.

"Oh," the Doctor said, but he had no witty comeback for Amy, for he was indeed acting terribly like a geek. "Shut it, Pond."

That only made Amy smirk harder.

The Doctor shook his head at her and blushed at his ears as he said, re-examining his sonic screwdriver. "My screwdriver isn't picking up any traces of anything from the planets and places I've been to, though the TARDIS might remember, seeing as this thing" - he banged at it with the palm of his hand - "hasn't seen everything like Sexy has, have you?" He must have received an unsatisfactory answer, for he "bahhed" and threw the screwdriver at the console and turned back to the pod. He placed the pod on a platform and stood back, taking his goggles off his eyes and onto his hair as he looked up at the TARDIS top, making Amy do the same, and said in a delighted voice, "Go at it, Sexy!"

There was a noise as a laser passed over the gas pod, analyzing and picking up traces of anything and everything.

"What's she got, Doctor?" Amy said, and she let out a slight gasp as the Doctor grabbed her arm and dragged her to the screen displayed near the top of the TARDIS.

"Oh, that makes sense," the Doctor said, his face lighting up with a glee. He let out a giggle and twisted Amy's hand, making her twirl. She came to a stop and looked at the Doctor with a completely serious face. "Are . . . you okay?"

"It's from the Subtan Land. I had to wear a special suit with gloves there. Wasn't able to touch or taste or smell anything. So, couldn't really identify it."

"What do the people from there look like?" Amy wondered.

"Not so much people as mud creatures. They bathe in mud, look like mud, take a nice evening walking through the mud. All blotchy and dark brown like chocolate, only better because they talked and chocolate doesn't, though I like chocolate. Milk's the best, though; milk with the chocolate chip cookies is the best thing, but you have to have milk with the fat, none of that skimmed stuff, nasty, ick," the Doctor said, sticking out his tongue.

"You lost me at the chocolate," Amy said, raising an eyebrow at the Doctor.

"I WAS counting on you to keep up, Pond, honestly, why do I have you around but to listen to my clever deductions?" the Doctor said brightly as he went and picked up the pod.

"I thought it was Sexy here" - Amy patted the TARDIS - "who deduced that."

"Yeah, whatever," the Doctor said. He turned and ran toward the door, making Amy immediately follow him.

He closed the door and locked it behind him, saying as he slipped the key into his pocket, "Usually I would just leave this unlocked, seeing as Hollywood is used to weird things like this appearing in their streets, but there is paps, and paps are VERY dangerous people, Amy. They're ruthless, like mercenaries."

"You could say that again," Amy said, nodding.

The Doctor looked at her incredulously. "Don't make me repeat that."

He then hurried (with Amy at his heels) back to the studio.

"We need to locate the director and Rory," the Doctor said as he forced the gate open.

"Why's that?" Amy wondered.

"The director because I need a big ol' megaphone to broadcast to the invading populace that there may be more of these pods, and Rory because he's my mate and I'd rather not lose him," the Doctor said. "You know how he is. Wandering around, poking his big nose into everything."

"Wouldn't that be a good thing if you were searching for pods?" Amy wondered.

The Doctor opened the gate and turned to Amy with a very turned up smile. "That's what I like to hear, Pond."

"What, exactly?" Amy said as she hurried after the Doctor once more.

"You using your brain, using your mouth to spew out knowledge and tactics and gosh, I love that," the Doctor said.

"Okay. . ." Amy said. They passed a number of paps and rushed past them, too busy to be polite to people trying to pry into their lives. "So why are these pods here?" she said loudly over the sound of the questions of the wondering populace.

"Someone has planted them. The gas, it seems, has the ability to make people act crazy, limbs go up and down, you know, like robots, or zombies, zombies are very interesting," the Doctor said. He sighed and said, "WOULD YOU PEOPLE PLEASE MOVE? I AM TRYING TO GET THROUGH HERE!"

But, of course, no one listened to him because people don't like being told what to do and they like being annoying to people because that makes them happy.

The Doctor sighed and mentally decided to visit another planet (hopefully, if he felt up to it) and not Earth when this crisis was overcome and continued, hoping that Amy hadn't been pushed back so that she couldn't hear him. "It might be a military tactic, though I highly doubt that. It's most like a single being doing this, trying to gain the power over the people."

"Does the person who set the gas pod want to control the people? Because I don't think making people act like zombies is going to accomplish many evil plans," Amy said.

"Yes, Pond, but it is a way to scare people, assert authority, like, 'I can control you and there is nothing you can do; if you want your life back, listen to my orders.' It's a way of intimidating people, Amy," the Doctor said. He jerked his head for her to turn with him, and they peeked their heads into different rooms, not even bothering to even go and ask people where James Peering was. This was their system, and they weren't going to change it.

They finally peeked their heads into a studio that had the start of a cooking show. Amy sighed and said, "Jimmy boy, where are you?"

"This is giving me a crick in the neck," the Doctor said, cracking his neck with a grimace on his face.

"Oh, you too? Yeah, I noticed," Amy said, turning her head from side to side.

"See them?" the Doctor said in a low voice, taking in the camera crew and people all over the set.

Amy shrugged. "Don't know, well, is that him. . .?"

"Yes, hey, Jimmy!" the Doctor said, hurrying to James Peering. It seemed that the man was also the director of this show, for he was using his hands to gesture and talk to a person in big poufy clothes that should never be near a stove for fearing of it being flammable.

"Hey-o, here," the Doctor said.

James turned to him and looked very angry. "Is this about changing the script again? No, I'm not, I already told your friend that I'm not changing around the writing."

"You have a very one-track mind, don't you?" the Doctor said. "WAIT, no, no, Jimmy, that's not why I'm here. I need your megaphone, I need to tell you something-"

"Save it. I'm behind schedule, we just got the eleven-thirty slot," James said. He nodded to the woman in the huge clothes and said, "Ready in ten, Sylvia."

"Sure, doll," the woman said in a voice that sounded more like a man's than the Doctor's.

"Jimmy, Jimmy, wait," the Doctor said, raising a hand, but his words were drowned out by a countdown as the director took his seat and they were live to all of Hollywood.

**Thanks for reading!**


	6. Doctor, Don't Die

**Thank You, God, for everything.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Doctor Who. Thanks for reading!**

"Welcome to The Cooking Talk," the woman, Sylvia, said. "I'm Sylvia Flamboyant, and I am here with a special guest today, it seems." For the Doctor had not been able to move off the set in time and was standing awkwardly next to Sylvia. Amy, and Rory, who had been there, both nearly facepalmed themselves as they stood next to James and Camille.

Sylvia turned to the Doctor and said, "And what is your name, sir?"

"My name is quite simply the Doctor, Sylvia," the Doctor said, and he quickly changed the subject before she could dwell on the fact that he only had a title as a name. Looking about, he said, "Your set is very lovely, I have to say. This kitchen is wonderful." He fumbled with a stove button. "It's wonderful to be on the show."

"Thank you, Doctor, darling. What is your best dish?" Sylvia asked.

The Doctor smiled proudly to himself. "I have numerous dishes. I've created the noodle and Yorkshire pudding and French pastry crust (I went to a very lovely culinary school in Paris. I was the head instructor, with massive awards to my name), I'm awfully good at omelets, but my FAVORITE dish has got to be fish fingers and custard."

Sylvia looked politely disgusted while the Doctor shared a secret smile with Amy, who was smirking next to Rory. "I have to ask, how did that recipe . . . come about?"

"It was midnight, I was hungry, needed to eat," the Doctor said. "Raided a friend's fridge for something very non-poisonous. It tasted amazing compared to stupid beans and apples. Stupid stupid stupid stupid things."

"Were you hungover?" Sylvia asked slyly, and there was a studio laughing. The Doctor looked confused, as there was no audience in front of him except the crew. He craned his neck trying to locate them, and then turned to Sylvia with the most serious expression on his face. "No. I have particular tastes, and it seems that you have a problem with that? Have you?"

"I suppose no," Sylvia said slowly.

"You better not; I invented the noodle," the Doctor said. "You should be thanking me, not insulting me." He gave his head a toss and said, looking about the kitchen before him, "Well, are we making fish fingers and custard or what?"

Sylvia looked rather disgusted, but there was suddenly a platform on the counter that rose up and produced ingredients to make the dish. The Doctor rubbed his hands together excitedly, looking pleased, and said, looking to Sylvia and then to the head camera, "Let's get cooking then, shall we?"

He straightened and started off, making Sylvia take a step back, looking perturbed. "All right," he said, beginning to take up the package of fish fingers. "Now, we could go ol' school and just bread some lovely fish fillets cut into fingers in some panko and egg, but who has time for that? I do, but none of you do, so just use the prepackaged, it'll work, that's what I used."

"What kind of cuisine would you call this, Doctor?" Sylvia said, attempting to get back into the conversation as the Doctor talked to the camera like it was an old friend as he took out a sheet tray and went to preheat the oven.

"Extraterrestrial, of course," the Doctor said matter-of-factly. "Just like that accident in the studio today."

"Oh, that," Sylvia said. She looked to the camera and said, "There was a mysterious force over the studios today. It's gone, though."

This was supposed to soothe whatever nerves had been provoked in any viewers listening, but the Doctor took it as an opportunity to run with to tell James what happened, and so he began to take it as he began measuring ingredients for the custard.

"It may come back, but I highly doubt that. It was a gas pod that was alien, of course it had to be, none of you humans could be able to create that sort of thing, sorry, no offense intended. Now, stir in the eggs carefully with the cream, or else you'll end up with scrambled eggs and bah to that." The Doctor looked to Sylvia and continued in the same bright, cheerful conversational tone, "But, yes, don't not be alarmed. I'd be alarmed about that pod if I were you. It didn't just come here by itself. Someone planted it with bad intentions. There's a someone who put it in the studio." The Doctor looked to the camera and pointed his dripping spoon at it. "See, you have to be careful, both with custard and dealing with aliens who want to try to get to the human race."

Sylvia looked properly flustered, and across from her, James was facepalming himself with one hand and making his other wave about crazily, making Amy, who was looking at the Doctor, who was enjoying himself immensely, look to the blank hostess and the director.

Rory just looked on with a sort of dumbfounded look, as though he couldn't believe the Doctor was saying this sort of stuff on live TV. But, unlike much of everyone watching, he wasn't _too_ surprised: this was within the Doctor's character.

"Now, the custard needs to set for a bit or it'll just drip off the fish and that's COMPLETELY useless, and the last thing you need with this dish is a spoon," the Doctor said, setting the now cooling custard into the blast chiller. He pulled out a bowl and said, bringing it to eye level and examining it, in amazement, "Oh, they already made a batch for me. That's exciting, isn't it?"

The Doctor closed the segment very well, seeing as Sylvia looked so flustered that she couldn't part them from the camera even if she wanted to. The Doctor stacked the fish sticks into a careful tower, seeing as they were like tiny two-by-fours, and set a bowl of the custard next to it.

"And, if you're feeling terribly fancy or you need to get rid of your weeds, just stick a bit of parsley on it," the Doctor said, delicately placing the sprig of parsley he had between his fingers on top of the custard. He wiped his hands against each other and looked to the camera, saying, "See, it's really that simple." He took up the plate in his hand and offered some to Sylvia, who shook her head as politely as she could. He shrugged and turned so that his body was facing the head camera. He took up a fish finger and dipped it and ate it, chewing and nodding like he had just gotten to the catchy part of a song he really liked.

"THAT," he said, looking to the camera. "Is brilliant. So remember: feel free to decorate your food with your spare garden clippings and be sure to watch for blotchy chocolate covered people. If you see one, call me as you run. It's your best plan."

The cameras turned off and James stood up, his head in his hands, looking like his life was ruined.

The Doctor turned and patted Sylvia on the shoulder, told her she was brilliant, and went to join Amy, Rory, and James, the latter two in a very heated discussion.

"I can't really believe you just did that," Amy said, cocking her head with a smirk toward the Doctor.

"Better believe it, sister," the Doctor said cheerfully, shifting his hips back and forth. "I usually do improv. Improv works on the spot."

"You have a way with words. It's funny. You have to talk yourself out of enough situations, though, so I probably shouldn't be so surprised," Amy said, eying the Doctor with a look that was amused and didn't want to give him as much credit as he was giving himself.

"But I'm full of surprises, so many," the Doctor said.

James finally threw up his hands and looked fiercely from an intense looking Rory to a surprised Amy to the Doctor, who was fixing to dip another fish finger into his custard.

"You lot have officially driven me crazy. You" - he pointed at the Doctor, the Doctor looked pleased - "have ruined my cooking show. That was live, and there was thousands of thousands of people watching that. The ratings are going to go down because YOU TALKED ABOUT INVADING ALIENS AND GAS PODS. You" - he pointed to Rory, who looked like he was fairly pissed - "you want to change MY script so you don't have to act. And I thought you lot were professional-"

"We never said that, you know," Amy said. She raised an eyebrow and said, "You fully assumed that. That probably was your first mistake."

"YOU ARE NOT HELPING," James said. He looked back to Rory and pointing a finger at him, said angrily, "You get what you want. Are you happy now?" He grabbed a stack of paper from beside him and a pen and thrust them into Rory's surprised arms, saying, "You can rewrite the entire script, FOR THE ENTIRE SERIES. Because the Alien and the Diva are supposed to get together, but now they can't because the Diva is now married to the Roman, so I suggest you write it that way, and no royalties for you!" and James stormed off.

"What a plot twist," the Doctor said as Rory, looking at the script with a lot of alarm, sat down in the director's chair, looking shocked.

Amy stooped down next to him and said, "Rory? Rory, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I think so," he said very quietly. He let out a nervous laugh. "I'm just not really used to having so much pressure on me."

"Good, this is your time to shine," the Doctor said, smiling. He began to chat steadily, looking very happy at the change of things, and so he didn't notice Camille Burnett slipping away from everyone else, a bottle of a something in the crook of her elbow. It was half-empty, though. That was probably do to the fact that half of it had been dumped in the custard.

* * *

The Doctor had found the three of them a good spot to rest themselves. It was a card table in a holding area where the actors and actresses waited to be called on set once they were done being beautified.

They were all seated in foldable chairs. Rory had discarded his armor and had it sitting on a chair next to him as he bent over the script, scribbling out lines and adding new ones, biting his lip every so often. A packet of chips sat half-open to him.

Amy sat next to the armor-filled chair, and she and the Doctor were bending over the fish fingers and custard. Having not had lunch, they had been thinking they'd head to some circus- or other-themed restaurant while they were out. However, Rory was stuck with this script and they were now fully integrated into a telly show. That was fine by them, but they were still hungry.

"Oh, gosh, this brings back memories," Amy said, sighing as she gazed at the fish finger she held. "Sure you don't want some, Rory?"

"Strangely enough, I don't have the taste for them. Never had, never will," Rory said, looking up from his work. His face was a little pained looking as he watched the two eat the weird food like it was the most delectable thing they had ever had in their lives. "I got my crisps. You-you used to make this when we played together and you forced me to eat it."

"Hey, you were supposed to be the Doctor. You were supposed to like it better than bacon, or beans, or APPLES," Amy said quickly.

"Still, no thanks," Rory said, looking back to the papers in front of him.

"Oh, don't worry about him, Amy," the Doctor said cheerfully, leaning against his foldable chair. His legs were crossed and across the table, and he had to move his arm out a lot to reach the bowl and platter. He grabbed his umpteenth fish finger and dipped it slowly in the smooth, yellow custard. He brought it in front of his face and looked at it a moment, saying, "He'll come around to it someday. Don't worry, solemnly swear," and he took a bite off the fish finger like he was ripping its head off. It didn't have a head, of course, but that was just an analogy

"I won't worry about him, then," Amy said cheerfully, making Rory glare up at her.

The Doctor smiled and then looked away from her, his smile disappearing. His hand went to his stomach, which was feeling topsy-turvy. Suddenly his head felt hot and his hearts were pounding something awful. That in and of itself was strange, seeing as usually one just went up and out; not like this, both of them reacting to something awfully strongly.

Suddenly he stood up, feeling dizzy and woozy. He heard Amy's voice saying in his mind, her voice distorted and foggy, "Doctor? What is it? Doctor, are you all right?"

The Doctor turned and looked at both Ponds for a moment. Both of their faces were scared, Rory's astonished and confused and Amy's angry. She said very loudly so that it was clear to him, "What is wrong, Doctor?"

"I think I may have been poisoned," the Doctor said, and he stumbled and Amy jumped from her seat and took to him, putting her arm under him.

Rory looked horrified as he stood up, saying as he hurried to the Doctor, "Poison? How-how isn't Amy acting like that?"

"Yeah, Doctor, what gives?" Amy said, looking worriedly at her old friend as Rory turned and yelled for help.

The Doctor coughed and spat. His insides were being cooked, he thought. He had once been pushed into a furnace, like he was a child in a fairytale, and it had felt colder than this. His insides were burning through him, and he wondered how Amy wasn't jumping from him as he turned to look at her and spat, feeling angry through his pain, "Just me. That-that - _that_ sounds like something alien - TASTES alien - oh, that's a theory-"

"What theory? Come on, Doctor, speak to me!" Amy said urgently, feeling the urge to shake him but didn't, not wanting to cause him more pain. "What theory?"

"That this poison" - here he coughed like he had a lung that needed to come up - "is meant to poison two-hearted beings only."

"Oh, isn't THAT brilliant!" Amy said frantically. "That means someone knows you're an alien and now you're dying. DON'T DIE ON ME, DOCTOR, YOU CAN'T GO ON DYING ON ME, I WON'T LET YOU, PLEASE."

Her voice, her panicking and demanding voice, reminded the Doctor of another redhead he used to know, but he closed his eyes as hard as he could and tried to forget that image in his head.

"I can't - really - promise anything - Pond!" the Doctor said, and now people were gathering around them, looking vastly alarmed at what was happening, and Amy had him in a sitting position against her now, and he was turned to see her face and it was screwed up and there was tears mixed in with her dark mascara and there was medics coming around to him, trying to drag her away from him. Rory was watching, looking pale and blank, when he suddenly remembered that he was a nurse, and he hurried forward and moved people out of the way, saying frantically in a panicked voice, "Come on, move. Please, I'm a nurse! I'm a medical . . . person, move!"

He found himself in front of the Doctor, who was not crying but choking out coughs, and Amy was looking from him to her husband, saying quickly, "Save him, please, Rory, save him!"

That was when the Doctor went up and stopped breathing.

**PLEASE REVIEW IF YOU FEEL SO INCLINED. God bless you!**


	7. Oh, Not the Ladies' Room, Doctor!

**Thank You, God, for everything.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Doctor Who. Thanks for reading, my lovely fellow Whovians! :)**

Everyone stopped moving except Rory, who quickly began CPR on the Doctor, trying to knock some sense back into his hearts. With the heel of his hand, he felt that one of the Doctor's hearts had gone out, and he frantically pressed down and pushed breath back into the Doctor, saying fiercely, "Don't you dare die, I swear if you die - we're screwed then, so don't die."

And that was when the Doctor sat up straight. He looked a little blank but otherwise all right. He coughed once more, and there was a hint of a dusty looking fog coming from his mouth that none of them had noticed before.

He turned to Rory and said, "You know, coughing is what I was SUPPOSED to do. Exhale the poison. I think I got it all, though YOU were not helping in the slightest."

Rory felt too stupid and thought that saying he thought it would be like helping a dying human, like Time Lords and humans were a bit the same, and instead said, "You might have said something. We would have given you a bit of air."

"Which you did, a bit, anyway," the Doctor said, ruffling his hand through Rory's hair fondly. "You tried."

Rory shrugged, looking a bit angry at himself, as the Doctor stood up. Amy, regaining her composure, helped him, saying, "You all right?"

The Doctor straightened as best as he could, saying, "Yes, but can you please make the crowd go away?"

"Skedaddle," Amy said quickly, looking around with an eagle eye that dared anyone to defy her order.

Seeing as the Doctor was all right, the crowd slowly dispersed, and Rory said, "They're gone, are you SURE you're okay?"

"NO, NO, I am not," the Doctor said far too cheerfully. He pulled out his sonic screwdriver and did a full body scan, moving it past his giraffe neck down to his large feet. He stood up and said, looking and examining the screwdriver, "It seems it's all gone."

"What did you just do?" Amy said, her arms folded over her chest, a puzzled look on her face.

"Fully body scan. Takes in the interiors of a something and-" and the Doctor immediately turned and shouted, waving his arms, "Hey, you, crowd, come back! I NEED EVERYONE IN A LINE, COME BACK, COME ON COME ON COME ON!"

He turned to Amy and said, "Look like you're strangling me."

"Um, no. I won't do that," Amy said, raising an eyebrow at such a request.

"Come on!" the Doctor said, waving his hands up and down. "They need something to commandeer their attention, and that is something that can commandeer their attention!"

"Doesn't yelling work, though?" Amy said. "Any lying." She turned to the crew and said, "Hey, free ice cream!"

"Amy," Rory said, but the crowd, curious, was already approaching. The Doctor was already ordering them into a straight line, "Single file, if you will, come along, everyone, yes, YOU," and Camille Burnett looked pissed as she huffed and stood in line with everyone else, looking wary as she watched as the Doctor went down the line, making the object in his hand make a buzzing noise that sounded alien, as he moved it up and down, head to foot, over each body before sending them away with a wave of his hand.

He came down to the end of the line and Camille grew a bit stiff and he finished and pocketed his sonic screwdriver very quietly, and then looked up and smiled at her very politely.

"Hello there," he said. "Come out. I've found you."

Amy suddenly realized and nodded, ahhing to herself. The innards of an alien were obviously different from a human, no matter how you disguised your outside self.

"Seems so, Doctor," Camille said, smiling brightly, and then she darted and ran, firing over her shoulder an electrifying blue laser that caused several people to scream and back away into each other.

Amy and Rory shifted away and the Doctor backed away from them, heading toward Camille in a backwards manner, a look of happiness across his face as he moved his hands, saying, "See? That was easy, wasn't it?"

"You never said it would be," Amy said, frowning, and she darted forward after Camille, who was fast around a corner and out of sight.

"Right, well, true," the Doctor said, and he spun on his heel and ran after the two females, leaving Rory to sigh and determine how to once again calm down the shocked crowd.

The two friends ran after the actress down several halls. She tried to stop them by pushing people carrying boxes and ordering drinks and carrying drinks and using phones and megaphones and just people doing their jobs into the middle of the halls, startling them and creating an obstacle course for the Doctor and Amy to get around. Amy growled and pushed faster, weaving herself around. The Doctor, for usually being so clumsy and fall-y, was twirling around and making his way through like he did this every day when, in truth, he usually did this every other day.

A set of restrooms came up and Camille found herself at a dead end and so she flung herself into the ladies' room, causing the door to flap and slam as the Doctor and Amy stopped in front of it.

"Oh, great," Amy said, and she started to push the door open as hard as she could, but before she could get herself in, the Doctor was slipping past her and pulling out his screwdriver at the same time.

"Uh, hello?" Amy said, making the Doctor turn around and give her his full attention. She cleared her throat and emphatically tapped the ladies' sign on the door.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures, Amelia," the Doctor said quickly before turning around, undeterred that he was in the ladies' room. Amy rolled her eyes and let the door fall closed behind her as several gasps came from the sinks, where several cast members and actresses were applying their makeup and brushing their hair and looked properly disturbed by the Doctor, who was scanning each stall with his sonic screwdriver.

"This is the ladies' room!" one screeched as Amy, with the footsteps of a miffed mother going after her child who was acting naughty, headed straight to the Doctor, saying, "Hello, Doctor? That's rude! And nasty!"

She caught the screwdriver from his hand and looked from it to him sternly, making him look to her and say frantically, "Oh, Amy, I'm not doing that! I'm not that pervy, you know me, as innocent as a lamb."

"A black sheep, you are," Amy said. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to locate Camille," the Doctor said, snatching the screwdriver from Amy and looking straight into her face. "This finds alien heat, and not human, and unless you'd like to knock on every stall and try to find her THAT way, try my way for once. Might actually work," and he turned and began down the line of stalls once more.

Amy rolled her eyes and said, looking down the line of stalls, "Camille, where are ya? Come on out from wherever you are."

"Highly efficient, Amy. She'll totally listen to you and waltz out to be cuffed," the Doctor said lightly as he bent up and down.

"I haven't a screwdriver, if you haven't noticed, Doctor!" Amy said, looking stoutly at him and ignoring all the horrified stares of the other women; some were heading out to find security.

The Doctor stopped at the last door and stopped. "Won't need one." He knocked on the door then, saying, "Hello, Camille? You aren't doing anything funny in there, are you?"

Amy walked quickly over to the Doctor in strides and stood next to him, yelling at the door, "Hey, you, alien, out where we can see them!" She turned to the Doctor and said in a quiet sort of voice, "Kind of pathetic, isn't it? Hiding in a bathroom stall?"

"I've done it, so yes, pathetic," the Doctor said, and he said in a louder voice, "Give it up, Camille. Don't try hiding."

"Why, should I run away instead?" a voice from the stall said. "Like you, Doctor? Running away from everyone and everything?"

"Come out and speak civilly, Camille," the Doctor said calmly, though he looked pale. "See me face-to-face."

"I thought you didn't like being confronted, Doctor. You like to hide things about yourself, won't ever tell things to your precious 'companions'," Camille said. Her voice sounded too cheery.

"Camille, move out before I go in there," the Doctor said, exasperated and sweating.

"What? And blab about my plan? Just what you want, don't you, Doctor?" Camille said. "That's what usually happens, anyway. I watched you when you were on my planet. You can talk yourself out of every situation, can't you?"

"And have you been trying to pick up tips? Because you aren't very good at it," the Doctor said bitingly.

"I had a bad teacher, I suppose," Camille said, giggling.

"This is nonsense," Amy said. "Talking to a bathroom door, the lot of us."

"Your companion wants to get down to business, Doctor," Camille said. There was a banging in the bathroom. "I suppose we mustn't keep her waiting," and the bathroom door opened. Camille, prim and perfect as ever, was holding out her taser gun, and she said, "Sorry she has to go so soon," and she pointed it at Amy, sending a blue light at her.

"No!" the Doctor yelled, and Amy was only knocked back toward the sinks, a gasp out of her, as the Doctor took hold of the blue light by his sonic screwdriver. It growled and hissed as it kept the laser at bay, stopping it from coming much closer to the Doctor. The string of electricity hung in mid-air, suspended, making the Doctor let out a laugh at the disgusted look on Camille's face.

"Ha ha! How are you doing, Amy?" the Doctor said. "Still breathing with control of all the limbs, yeah?"

"Yeah, I believe so," Amy said breathlessly, looking over her arms and legs before turning back to the scene before her.

"Give it up then, Camille," the Doctor said. "I have backup coming along and that laser can't hold you forever."

"Liar liar, filthy liar," Camille said breathlessly, though with a bit of dignity still. "There's no backup and oh, I can go on for ages."

The Doctor shrugged, started to support his outstretched arm with his other hand. "All right, there is no backup, but they'll find us soon. It can't be that hard, considering what a scene this is." Out of the corner of his eye he saw the actresses inching toward the door, still looking alarmed, and he said, "Oh, can you go fetch the directors - guards - people - please? I could use a little help."

"What-what do you want me to do, Doctor?" Amy said, looking alert.

"Oh, there's nothing you can do, sorry, Amy," the Doctor said, "unless you can sneak over to her and use the gas pod in her bag to control her."

"How'd you notice?" Camille said, glancing quickly at her covered bag.

The Doctor shrugged. "The screwdriver picked up the traces off when the TARDIS recognized it. I'm thinking of syncing them together, how about that?"

"I don't care," Camille said, sounding annoyed. "You're not going to pull a move, then, Doctor? Never was much of a fighter, were you?" And she popped her laser away and pointed it at the wall, and the laser hit the electricity in the walls, causing sparks to fall. The sonic screwdriver's current sent her flying back into the bathroom stall. The Doctor could hardly go in to apprehend her, though, for the sparks from the wall were catching along the rest of the walls, which were painted with a flammable paint, it seemed. He looked around and gulped as the bathroom started to go up in flames, heavy smoke filling the air, and Amy, coughing, called out, "Doctor? Doctor, are you still in here?"

"Yes, I believe so. Unless I'm in the hall and the smoke has moved into the hall," the Doctor said, spinning around slightly.

"What should we do?" Amy said. "I-I can't find any buckets," and she darted along the sinks, her hands feeling and turning dials until there was water in the bathroom. She hoped that the water would overflow and drown out some of the flames and she flung handfuls of the water at the walls, but-

"It's no use, we've got to get out," Amy shouted. "Doctor, where are you?"

For the bathroom had become a room that was a maze. The stalls were all opened, there was screaming in the air as actresses and ladies found the exit, and then Amy let out a sigh of relief when she heard the Doctor say, "I should have a setting on this screwdriver to clear smoke but I don't, dang it!"

And suddenly Amy felt a hand catch around her own, and the Doctor's face briefly appeared out of the darkness, and he said very quietly, his voice hoarse from the ingestion of smoke, "Run."

And they ran through the bathroom, knocking into someone very solid and holding something very heavy. Amy turned halfway around with horror as the Doctor dragged her through the bathroom exit, not willing in the slightest to lose another one, and she called out, "Rory!"

"Don't worry, I got it," he said, for the big thing he was holding was a fire extinguisher. He looked at the burning, crumbling mess in front of himself and bobbing his head to himself, said, "Rory the Roman to the rescue," and he pumped on the black end of the extinguisher and a thick gush of white foam flooded from it, eating up the flames and causing a great deal of noise that covered the sounds of the flames crackling.

The Doctor came to a stop in a crowd of people around the bathroom and looked with a bit of shock on his face back to the bathroom. He couldn't be shocked for long, though, for he had to catch Amy and keep her from rushing in after Rory.

"Please, Doctor, let me go! Rory!" Amy shouted, practically begging the Doctor to let go of her hand. But he wasn't going to let her hand go.

"He's going to come out, calm down, please, Amy," the Doctor whimpered, and out of the doorway came Rory, face mussed up, hair tossed about and his whole body smudged with coal dust. He looked tired as he held up the extinguisher with a slight, sarcastic smile, and said, "You're welcome!"

"Oh, Rory," Amy said, and she hurried to her and caught him up in her arms and hugged him as hard as she possibly could. She breathed heavily, saying, "Don't do that ever again, please."

"Can't guarantee anything," Rory said very quietly, so only Amy could hear him. This only made her grip him harder.

The Doctor was spinning around, saying, "Hello, Camille? Come on, that blonde hair can't hide you in Hollywood forever," and James Peering parted the group of people gathered about. He had an irritated look on his face, from the entire mess of the day and the fact that the actress he had just fired had managed to set fire to one of the studio's bathrooms. In his hand was the arm attached to Camille, who looked calmly disgusted with everyone around here, like the human race was a pile of filthy waste.

**Thanks for reading! God bless you! **


	8. Crisps Are Very Helpful

**Thank You, God, for everything.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Doctor Who. I give you ze last chappie. **

"THERE you are, Camille, thank you, James," the Doctor said pleasantly, clapping his hands together.

"Yes, THANK you, James," Camille said, and she wrenched his hand off of her and she stepped into the circle of clear space the Doctor was in. Everyone watched with fixated faces as she said, "You've got me, Doctor. And I suppose you'll want to forgive me, Doctor? Give me another chance to . . . change my ways."

The Doctor quirked a nonexistent eyebrow. "How would you know that I go about doing that?"

Camille stopped walking around the circle then. Her eyes were filled with pure venom as she looked at the Doctor, a still coldness to her face now. "Because that is what you did to my country. My planet. You caused destruction, deaths, and then you came to our leaders and offered them a second chance when that is what we should have been giving you. And if it were up to me, there would be no second chance, Doctor. I watched you speak to the leaders in the Inner Courts, one of the audience, loathing you. You were too chipper, too sure of yourself. You knew they'd listen to your lies, your convincing arguments. But your words can only get you so far, Doctor. Actions have to come along at some point or another."

"I get actions. Actions, not guns," the Doctor said. He shook his head, saying, "Though, I wonder how controlling people like zombies is really taking action."

"It's more than you've done, Doctor," Camille said. She looked about and saw that many of the paps had come in, and there was pictures being taken around them now. It was a bit scary, but Camille straightened, saying, "You don't know how to defeat me."

"I defeated your kind before, Camille, and I can do it again," the Doctor said, looking irritated at himself. He banged his screwdriver across his palm, looking away from Camille for a moment, trying to divulge into his mind, which was whirling with the thoughts and feelings and smells and touches and memories of a thousand worlds, of over a thousand years, full of love and darkness and brightness and depression and lingering fingerprints and facts about places he should remember but can't.

"Doctor?" he heard Amy say. He looked up slightly to see her next to Rory, still holding onto him like she wasn't about to have him get away from her, looking slightly alarmed at how plain lost he looked.

"Yes, Doctor?" Camille said, looking far more disgusted at him now that he was hesitating, frantic, not sure what to do. "How are you going to pull yourself out of this one?" She let out a barking laugh. "You destroyed and then humiliated a great number of my people. And you let it burn. Let it all burn. So, what are you going to do now?" And she stretched out her arms and she looked like she might be getting ready for regeneration, but no. Her skin peeled back from her body, her clothes tearing, her hair falling out. But it wasn't expected dark flesh and blood spurting from beneath the peeling skin and ripping clothes, but dark brown, like dark chocolate, skin that appeared, splotched, like the skin had been covered with dark burns that healed over others. Her eyes slid to being pure black, like someone possessed, and her cracked lips opened to reveal a brilliant white smile. Her smooth fingernails spread as her hands, webbed together like a frog's foot, spread out, her arms stretched as her whole body took its real form. Her bodice and legs and arms were covered in brown scales. She looked to the Doctor and said, no, yelled, "And what can you do now, Doctor? I've been trying to get you away all this time, but now I want you to come and realize what pain and loss you've made me endure."

"All the pain and loss you've received has been toward your pride," the Doctor finally said in a quiet, serious voice. He straightened, looked at Camille directly in the eyes. "You're the only one who's suffered. The other received a reality check that what they were doing was wrong. I was only trying to help."

"You don't help, Doctor," Camille hissed. "You only ruin, and destroy, and kill. So don't lie to us."

The Doctor looked at her with a look that could not be described. There was a thousand things running through his mind, torment and pain, but he had his mask on, and his voice was barely shaking as he said, "Rory? Have you still got your crisps on you?"

Over his shoulder he heard, "Pardon?"

"Your crisps. Chips. Potato thingies," the Doctor said. Camille looked a little perturbed, but the Doctor kept his eyes on her, not willing them to stay on anything but her. "People were once poisoned by potatoes, Camille. Bet you didn't know that."

"Like I would know some horrible Earth history fact," Camille said. "I don't care much for your precious Earth, Doctor."

The Doctor ignored her comments. "Bet you also didn't know that it's a poison to your race." He turned and thrust out his hand, and Rory tossed him a bag of chips from the machine from which he had fumbled to let loose of a pack since the Doctor had brought it up. The Doctor turned and tore the pack open, saying, "Game's over, Camille. Surrender."

"Don't even try bewitching me, Doctor," Camille hissed.

"Then I won't. Just hold still," and the Doctor threw the open pack at her, standing back as the chips flew out and smacked against her scaly body; instead of falling to the floor, they stayed attached to her skin, dissolving and burning dark holes into her, and Camille looked angrily at the Doctor as the pain consumed her; then a burning scream rattled from her throat. Her arms flapped around, like she didn't know what to do with them, but then they sank to her knees and clasped her kneecaps as she fell to the ground, her head bent, not willing to look up at the Time Lord standing over her, his face set so that any emotion could be fit to describe it.

Her limbs folded into a mess, like a giant fountain of chocolate crumbling into a soupy mess. It was a bit gruesome as the crowd stepped back so that her innards wouldn't touch them as they spread.

The Doctor looked a little white. "Oh, didn't remember that that was supposed to happen. It was supposed to stop her. In a way, I suppose, that was a way," he said, quite startled. He straightened, though, tightened his bow tie, and he turned to see that Amy was flinging herself at him, crushing him in a hug.

She pulled away from him after a moment and choked slightly, trying to regain herself once more. The Doctor smiled and said, "Sentimental, aren't we, Pond?"

"Good thing I don't just sit and eat fish fingers and custard, aye, Doctor?" Rory said, stepping forward as the paps around them came out of their frozen reverie and flooded toward James, whose security rushed to get to, and several guards went around the Doctor and the Ponds.

"Think this is supposed to prove a point, Rory?" the Doctor wondered.

Rory smiled and raised an eyebrow, making the Doctor let out a resigned sigh and say, "I suppose so."

"Don't worry," Rory said, patting the Doctor on the shoulder. "I'll try your fish someday, when the scarring memories are gone."

"Ah, Rory!" Amy said, letting out a laugh that sounded awfully relieved.

The Doctor could only smile.

"By the way, Rory, did you finish your script?"

* * *

James Peering looked as annoyed as could be. He was holding his face in his hands as the Doctor took to the seat next to his director's chair, fidgeting and looking very happy as he settled into his chair, crossing his legs and clasping his hands together.

"This chair is quite comfy, you know," the Doctor said, pointing to it. "Though, wouldn't it be neat to have 'The Doctor' on it?" He spanned his hands out and looked to James, who looked like he was ready to throw up his hands and leave the studio for the day. But they had lost time with Camille and her acting about (the janitor had come out and was almost finished mopping her up), and time was money, and so this scene had to be finished today.

Of course, James was ready to throw away the script that Rory had done, but he had decided to use it since they needed some good footage today.

He sighed and brought his megaphone out and told everyone to finish up and get ready, for in ten, nine, eight - Amy and Rory looked alert in their kitchen and living room spaces, and Amy put her sunglasses on - seven, six, five, four - Amy set to be ready to chop up an onion - three, two, one.

"Action," called James, his voice sounding a bit too hopeful for what he had.

Amy sighed and began chopping up the onion, looking as if she was hiccuping as she vigorously pounded at the onion. She was muttering under her breath, darting her manicured pinky past her eye to stop a tear from rolling down, as she cursed the name of the Alien.

Rory, in his Roman suit of armor now, turned in his seat, looked quizzically at Amy, the Diva, and said, "Diva, you okay?"

"Oh, definitely. Sure. Of course I am," Amy said, sighing.

Rory said, "I'm not sure that the definition of okay is the same for either of us."

"You managed to derive that from this conversation? That's all you've got?" Amy said, and she turned back to her cutting, and then let out a cry as the plastic knife gave her a 'cut' and a little bubble of fake blood popped on her finger, making her look like she had cut herself. "Oh, damn it!" she said, wrapping her hand in a towel.

"Hey, are you okay?" Rory said, getting off the couch.

Amy sniffed and pushed her sunglasses down, giving Rory a look that said, "Really?"

Time passed for a laugh, then Rory said, "Though, honestly, what is up with you?"

"Alien is a really big jerk and I don't like men at the moment," Amy said.

That made Rory take a step back, saying, "Oh, I didn't know."

Amy rolled her eyes. "No, not you, you goofball." Rory took his step back as studio laughter filled the air, and then he said, "I'm sorry what happened between you and him."

"Yeah. Well, there's not much you can do about it," Amy said, shrugging as she looked at her hand wrapped in a towel.

"I can tend to _that_, though," Rory said. He gently placed a hand on her arm and said, "Let me look at that."

Amy looked at him, her sunglasses set on him as he looked at the cut hidden by the towel.

"Doesn't look too bad," he said, looking back to Amy, whose face was within inches of his.

The Doctor in his seat sighed and whispered so that only James could hear, "They're going to kiss now, aren't they? They always do that." And so when the tension was met with the Diva and the Roman kissing, the Doctor threw up his hands and said, "See? I knew it." But he was smiling to himself. Rory always loved kissing Amy. Of course he was going to write a part with that included.

The scene ended, and Amy and Rory broke apart and turned to James and the Doctor, who was smiling softly and smacking his hands together so they were very loud.

"How was that?" Rory wondered.

James blinked and stood up. "You expect me to spend MY time and the producers' MILLIONS of dollars on that? You kissed her because she cut her finger cutting an onion. That's pathetic, this is pathetic."

Amy raised an eyebrow. "So you didn't like it?"

"I liked it," the Doctor volunteered.

"Yes, and I liked it too," Amy said, turning to Rory with a mischievous smile, making him chuckle.

"That's not going to work. You all are fired," James said, pointing to the three.

This made Amy and Rory tear their eyes off each other and plant them on James. "Excuse me?" Amy said. "Fired? Us?"

"Yes. I can't have this entire series based on this. You had your little scene, it's all resolved, I'll get a new Diva and Geek and Roman," James said quickly, his voice rising a little.

"Wait, what'd I do?" the Doctor said, standing up next to James.

James rolled his eyes. _"Fish fingers and custard."_

The Doctor sighed and shrugged. He supposed he had a point.

"Well, if that's how things are going, see ya," and Rory saluted James and with one arm around Amy, who was smirking despite herself, walked forward, catching the Doctor under his other arm.

At the exit, the Doctor said, "Are you sure you're okay, Rory?"

Rory shrugged. "My first time as a television show writer and it sucks. I've got plenty of other places to go to and do stuff there, right?"

"That's downright optimistic of you, Rory," Amy said, smiling as they passed through the gates and were immediately surrounded by a wall of people who were taking pictures of them, only allowing them a little circle of walking space.

"That's because I actually have a chance of doing something cool somewhere else," Rory said in reply as they came to the TARDIS.

"You're right about that, Pond," the Doctor said, and he unlocked the TARDIS and held the door for the couple and as they walked through, he gave a nod to the paps and disappeared into his darling Time Machine.

He hurried to the console and after giving the buttons a quick appraisal with his eyes, he looked to the Ponds, who were both leaning against the railing that was around the console.

"Where to now, Doctor?" Rory said as he began to take off the heavy pieces of armor. Amy took this as a cue and discarded her big funky sunglasses.

"I was thinking; let's go back to the 1950s," the Doctor said. He cracked a smile. "I'd like to see Hollywood then."

"You're just saying that because you accidentally married a famous actress from that time and you want to see her," Amy said, raising an eyebrow, holding in a laugh.

The Doctor started the TARDIS, and taking his hand off the console, he looked back to the Ponds and said, "So . . . no objections?"

**Thanks for reading! Please review! God bless you!**


End file.
